Sunday, April 18

accidental gardening & other mistakes

People have asked me if we're going to plant things again this year. The answer is: No. And: Yes. And: Well, we didn't really think so, but several of the things we planted last year are growing anyway so we might as well water them.

Take the tomato plants. In a strange twist, we have two boxes we constructed at one time (many lifetimes ago) to plant things in. Actually, that's not the strange twist. This is the twist: we planted tomatoes in one box last spring and the other box we kind of used as a compost area and then eventually threw some old wire fencing in there to discourage the dog from gnawing on decaying vegetable scraps and then having to have more gastrointestinal surgery and then we threw in some dried fronds that fell off the palm tree and then it kind of just became a catchall for stuff we didn't want to to have to think about much. Etcetera.

Oh, but that's not really the twist either.

Here's the twist: So yesterday, I was pulling weeds over there, in the vicinity of the box we never planted anything in, and I reached into the box and pulled something weedlike and then I looked more closely at the thing I had pulled, and bam. Tomato plant. With flowers and everything. Everything being leaves and stems, I guess. And lo! There were two more tomato plants which had somehow sprouted themselves in the trash heap we like to keep in that box.

So. We are apparently, whether we want to or not, growing tomatoes again this year. But that's my favorite kind of decision to make. The inadvertent kind. We also made that kind of decision about three pepper plants. Inadvertently, we are growing jalapenos, guajillos, and possibly yellow bell peppers, all in pots near the patio. These plants we had in the Other Box In Which We Actually Planted Things last season but we removed them after they appeared mostly dead to pots. For some reason. And we believed them dead until last week when they all sprouted leaves overnight. Same with the basil. Woody stems. Yellow leaves. Blah blah blah. Ohmigod, I'm going to have to buy a new basil plant to kill. But last week - apparently spring arrived last week - the dead basil plant began putting out beautiful glossy leaves. I mean, we're still a long way from Basil Vodka Lemonades obviously, but at least we're speaking the right language.

Oh, and Peeps! The lemon tree! I'm pleased to announce! Has a million flowers that all smell like candy! And has begun producing teensy adorable lemons! By the thousands! I'm so happy! So maybe we're closer to Basil Vodka Lemonades than I thought!

While the orange tree, meanwhile, is loaded with stupid aphids.

And everything and the kitchen sink is in bloom, too, although not necessarily producing lemons. Lots of pictures below.

Also, if you don't care too much about my plants, here's a mango sorbet recipe you should try, a chocolate sorbet recipe you MUST try(I'm deadly serious this stuff is amazingly good and it's true what the recipe's reviewers say: people are confused because they think it must be ice cream but it's not). (It's kind of rewarding to confuse your friends with chocolate). And furthermore, while I'm in charge since it's my blog, I recommend foregoing the fancy freezing-it-in-mango-skins-thing you'll read about in the mango sorbet recipe and instead just flat-out making both sorbets and serving them together. Yum. Like mangos dipped in chocolate. If you're into that kind of thing.

Also, for you intellectual, ready types, I'm currently reading Barbara Kingsolver's "The Lacuna" and I think you should read it too because she's my hero but mainly because it's a great book.

1 comment:

Just Another Jenny said...

Great shots!

I'm happy to hear about your inadvertent gardening adventures. :-)

I think you should mail me tiny lemons. I find it magical that you can grow tiny lemons --just like that.

I have an orange tree, it grows no fruit, and never flowers. I cart the son of a bitch into the house in the fall, and back outside in the spring. FOR THE LAST 11 YEARS. I bought the orange tree in Animal Kingdom in 1999 while on my honeymoon. Holly calls it the divorce tree since it outlived my marriage. It has grown about 5 feet since I got it. But still never flowers.

BTW, rubbing alcohol kills aphids without killing the plant. Though, I can't speak for alcohol + arizona sunshine.

I hope Raphael's father is doing okay.